


Unruly

by 234am



Series: Pounded in the Butt by an Ill-Made Knight [1]
Category: Dissidia: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy IV, Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: (brief) Breathplay, Anal Fingering, Armor Kink (kind of), BDSM, BDSM Negotiations, Bathing/Washing, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, M/M, No Aftercare, PWP, bossy Cecil, homoerotic pissing matches between guys who suck at being friends, submissive Seifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 14:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21429886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/234am/pseuds/234am
Summary: Cecil's wishy-washy whining is really starting to piss Seifer off, so he goes to do something about it.
Relationships: Cecil Harvey/Seifer Almasy
Series: Pounded in the Butt by an Ill-Made Knight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567492
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	1. parry

"Get up." The tone was as sharp and impatient as the man it came from.

Wearily, the knight lifted his head. Behind the relative safety of layers of plate, no one could see his forlorn expression but they could probably read it in the slump of his shoulders, hear it in the ragged hitch of his breath. It took some doing to get to his feet.

Once he was upright, it was easy to slide into an at rest pose; feet braced, spine straight, one fist against his chest as if he deferred to a superior. Perhaps it was an automatic response aimed at Princess Garnet til Alexandros, who hesitated some ways back, clutching at her staff as she glanced between the two men.

"Yes? What is it?" Cecil asked, placid.

Seifer Almasy had six inches and at least forty pounds on him, despite being two years his junior. Cecil had to crane his head back to meet that heated blue-eyed gaze as Seifer loomed up in his personal space.

"What do you think you're _doing_?"

"Pardon?" Cecil looked past Seifer, at the moldering corpses of their recently felled foes. Purple shadows still hissed from them. "As I understood it, escorting the Princess."

Quick as a zolom, Seifer slipped his hand in between gorget and pauldron, curled his fingers against the back of Cecil's neck, and _hauled_ him forward. And down. Even braced as he was, being caught off guard made Cecil overbalance, right over the waiting knee jutted out and into the dirt.

It didn't hurt.

Though his pride took a trouncing when Seifer followed it up by planting his boot against Cecil's back, effectively pinning him.

"Seifer--!" the Princess gasped.

Seifer, never one to be cowed by such things as decorum, snapped his arm out at her in a dismissive sweep. "Stay back, Princess. This is between your knights."

To Cecil's surprise, the Princess didn't back down.

"No, I don't think it is." She drew herself up and marched forward, staff lowered so that Seifer knew she wasn't the kind of threat he could fight off. "I think you're just looking for a chance to bully someone who won't stand up to you."

Staring down his nose at her, Seifer said nothing for a long minute. Then he scoffed. With one last stomp to Cecil's back, he stepped off. "This chicken wuss is going to get us all killed if he keeps dragging his feet like this."

The Princess took her staff in two hands and raised it. The Light of the Crystal answered her in a shimmer of green sparkles that rained down on Cecil, mending the bruises not from Seifer's attack but from the fight previous. It chased back some of the melancholy darkness eating at his heart, too.

With that, the torpor in his limbs eased and he found it easier to roll to his feet, easier to breathe.

"Thank you, Princess," Cecil said, with a low bow.

The Princess nodded, and then offered up an apologetic smile. "He's right, though. You're taking more risks than you need to for a simple scouting mission."

"I... My apologies."

Nodding as if everything was decided, the Princess patted at his arm, just under the pauldron. "No more needless self-sacrifice." She was so dainty, yet of such an unwavering will that in that moment, she made Cecil feel small. "Try to trust in us a little more."

Easier said than done with the way Seifer looked at him--equal parts fury and disgust. Given a chance, Seifer would probably...

No, that was unfair.

Despite his rambunctious, rough attitude, Seifer never failed to perform his duty. Oftentimes, he went above and beyond, just to prove he could. None could deny his strength nor the honor in actions.

It was Cecil and Cecil alone that was the problem.

Nothing new there, ever since the incident in Mist. His luck hadn't improved much since arriving in this strange purgatory presided over by warring gods. He was always a burden, holding the others back. The darkness threatened to swallow him up, and if it did so, it would spill out onto his friends.

For once, he saw the wisdom in Kain's decision to go on a solo pilgrimage.

"Anyway," the Princess said, brisk, "We should keep moving."

Seifer scoffed, swiped his thumb against his lip, then turned his head aside to hawk a loogie. He shot a mean glare at Cecil right before stalking off.

That look promised more trouble later.

The journey back to camp took them the rest of the day.

Cecil hung back not out of fear but out of caution. He acted only to protect the Princess when Seifer, quick that he was, wouldn't be able to react in time. Otherwise he fell into the mindless routine of basic strikes and footwork. The use of his dark-given powers seemed to upset the others, and so he abstained even when it would have made the fights go so much quicker.

They made it back to camp just in time for supper. From the smells of it, meat, meat, and more meat, all of it smoked to the point of char. Cecil's stomach turned at the prospect, knowing that it was likely monster of some kind. They didn't have the luxury of being picky, not anymore.

Cecil snapped off one last salute to the Princess. "Thank you for allowing me to serve today, Your Highness."

"There's no need to stand on ceremony, Cecil," she sighed. "And... Thank _you_. We couldn't have done it without you."

The disgusted snort Seifer made said otherwise.

Instead of arguing, Cecil inclined his head, then quietly murmured, "Excuse me."

He wove his way between campfires and tents. The camp spread out around the airship like a small city. They were a proper army, now, though no less disorganized than when they'd started.

Because of that, he managed to evade the well-meaning concern of friends on his way to the airship. Just as well--he had neither the focus nor the patience to endure small talk or cryptic advice. Purgatory had made Kain as reticent as ever, if not more so because he knew things Cecil could not remember.

The airship was quiet and empty. Even the troop of pilots that constantly vexed one another about who would be piloting were off enjoying dinner. Cecil was glad. He needed somewhere quiet and dark, removed from the smoke of campfires, to unravel his thoughts and just... _be_.

Though he also needed a bath and sleep, Cecil crept down to the belly of the airship to wedge himself up amid the machinery. The small, cramped space gave him comfort. Like the layers of his armor still encasing his fragile body.

Safe.

Dark.

Cold, but not unpleasantly so.

Cecil closed his eyes and breathed in the smells of oil and machinery and his own sweat. The tightness of his lungs hurt but the familiarity was a reassurance that he yet lived.

His respite remained undisturbed for only a handful of minutes.

Rapid, thudding clanks overhead warned him that someone was coming. Someone heavy or mad or both. Someone who didn't care who heard them and _wanted_ to announce their presence.

With their approach came the hiss of lights being snapped on. Cecil flinched away from it; it _hurt_ his eyes.

Ah. The Darkness had crept up on him while he wallowed.

Gritting his teeth, he wrestled the shadows down. Of late, he'd relied too much on this power and let his morbid thoughts get the better of him.

Soon, someone was bound to notice something.

Maybe they already had.

"Oi," Seifer barked, "Don't think I don't see you cowering back there."

Sighing, Cecil answered with, "Seifer." A pause. "Do you need something?"

Seifer, brave and foolhardy and never, ever afraid, stalked up into the darkened corner Cecil lurked in. He lunged, jamming one arm into the crevice.

For a split second, Cecil felt the sickening urge to lash out. That was the remnants of shadows clinging to his mind.

It passed when fingers closed around his gorget. With a rough yank, Seifer hauled him up out of the shadows and into the light. It was like he weighed nothing. He was spun and slammed against a wall.

A hand smacked into the wall next to his head.

"Gone to sulk with your tail between your legs?" Seifer demanded. "What the _hell_."

"I'm n--"

"Chicken wuss."

Fingers hooked under the chin plate of his helmet. In a swift but not very smooth move, Seifer pried the whole thing away. Cecil gasped like a fish out of water, blinded by the flood of light. His hair fell around his face in sweaty clumps, matted from hours of being mashed up inside the helmet.

When the fuzziness in his vision eased, Cecil noted a queer expression on Seifer's face. As heated as ever but--

No, that couldn't be.

The helmet clattered to the floor, forgotten as they stared at one another.

The moment broke with Seifer shoving away with an exaggerated flap of his hand in front of his face. "Ugh, _gross_, you smell like a can of sardines."

"Apologies."

"Shut up."

Cecil closed his mouth, but not for long. "What did you want that was so urgent?"

"You go around playing the noble hero and then don't _eat_, don't--" Seifer gnashed his teeth. Concern didn't suit him. "You're just gonna hold us back more."

"You need only ask someone else to accompany you, in the future."

With a snarl, Seifer smashed his fist into the wall next to Cecil's head. He would never strike a comrade without issuing a challenge, first, of that Cecil was placidly confident in.

Unflinching, he met Seifer's gaze.

"That's _it_!" Seifer grabbed one of the spikes of Cecil's right pauldron. "Someone oughta take you in hand."

Tongue between his teeth, Cecil debated pointing out the innuendo inherent, but, no, the task of staying on his feet as Seifer bodily hauled him across the room distracted him from saying something they would both regret.

"I can walk." Maybe if Cecil kept his voice soft, deferential, Seifer's rage would pass him over.

Seifer all but threw him ahead, then kicked at his heels to drive him forward. "Then _walk_."

So he walked.

He didn't know where they were going until Seifer herded him up to the living quarters, and then to the tiny shower cabinet near the end of the hall. By the grace of the gods, the airship somehow had running water that never ran dry. In hot and cold, no less.

Taking the hint for what it was, Cecil turned aside. "I'll need a change of clothes."

Folding his arms, Seifer all but slammed his back into a wall. He glowered off to the side. "So, what's stopping you?"

His position kept Cecil from retreating back to the belly of the ship, but not to his room, shared with Firion. Apparently Seifer paid sufficient attention to such details.

So as to not keep him waiting long, Cecil turned and walked at a brisk pace to his room, not quite hurrying. Not quite matching the odd flip-flop of his heart because he didn't know where this was going, or why Seifer was bothering.

It took him longer than it should have to strip out of his armor, laying each piece on his bunk. His fingers kept trembling, fumbling at the buckles and straps, as if he were a fresh recruit still green behind the ears.

Gods.

He kept thinking of the way Seifer looked at him.

No. It wasn't interest. It couldn't be.

Could it?

Down to his underclothes, Cecil collected a fresh change and his well-worn, scrappy towel. Then he took a breath to steady his nerves and stepped back out into the hall.

Under Seifer's sidelong stare, every step was harder than the last. Yet, he made it in one piece and Seifer had no further outbursts.

Cecil hesitated in front of the shower cabinet. "Do you intend to wait out here?"

"You got a problem with it?"

There was usually a line for the shower cabinet, so having others able to listen from the hall wasn't unusual. Cecil tended to wait until the morning rush dwindled before sneaking in.

"Ah, no, but... You needn't spare any further concern for me."

"I'm not _concerned_," Seifer hissed.

"Apologies, I meant no offense."

"Then what's your point?"

Though he was many things, Cecil was not, at the end of the day, a coward. Steel ran through his spine, for all that it was brittle and ready to break.

He took a breath.

Meeting Seifer's glare head on, Cecil asked, "Are you attracted to me?"

In the deepest corner of his heart, he admitted only to himself that the wide eyed, open-mouthed expression on Seifer's face was _extremely_ satisfying.

"What're you gonna do if I am?" Seifer demanded. The heat behind his words didn't come out like he meant it to. A little too breathy for that.

And then it was Cecil's turn to grab-- by the silver chain around Seifer's neck. He tugged, but gently.

That Seifer put up no resistance warmed him right down to his core.

The distraction was a welcome one.

The shower cabinet wasn't very big but that suited Cecil just fine. He liked the proximity of the walls and of Seifer crowding up against him, still wide-eyed and suddenly hesitant.

"What's the matter?" Cecil asked with a faint smile. "Didn't plan this far ahead?"

"Shut up." Seifer shoved at him and his back hit the cool tile inside the shower stall. "You're a mess."

Catching Seifer by the wrist, Cecil brought a gloved hand up to his face. "So are you."

He maintained eye contact as he bent to bite the finger tip of the glove, pulling it free. A fetching flush spread across Seifer's cheeks. It darkened the tips of his ears.

"...And that seems a shame," Cecil murmured, tossing the glove aside.

Seifer swallowed. "Yeah, and?"

"Time to drop trou, soldier. The others won't afford us much time or privacy."

Fumbling at his belt with one hand, Seifer reached behind him to slam the door shut. It was as good as a _yes, sir_.

Their clothes, clean and dirty alike, ended up in little piles on the limited floor space outside the shower.

Seifer kept his chain on. Up close, Cecil picked out numbers and his name on it. A dog tag, then, and a reminder that Seifer wasn't merely a knight lacking armor but a soldier from one of the futuristic worlds.

Despite coming from different worlds, their bodies were alike. Both were scarred and hardened by battle, driven by goals and dreams, honor and duty. Cecil smoothed his hand over Seifer's chest, above the nipple. His hand looked so very pale against Seifer's skin.

"You just gonna stand there looking?" Seifer demanded. The moment of tenderness must have put him on edge again. "You're not getting any cleaner, Chi--"

"My name is Cecil."

The sound of Seifer's teeth clicking shut pleased him.

Cecil smiled, trailing his hand up against the side of Seifer's neck. There he lingered over the pulse pounding away under his palm.

"Say my name, Seifer."

It came out like a whispered prayer: "_Cecil_."

"Good."

Given the limited space to maneuver, Cecil had to reach behind him to fiddle with the taps. Seifer leaned away from the sudden faceful of water with a disgusted noise. Cecil grabbed him by the chain and hauled him back into it, once the temperature steadied out.

"You're going to have to tell me what you want out of a scene."

Seifer blinked down at him, oddly guilless. "What?"

"And your boundaries, Seifer."

"...We're having sex, right?"

"I assumed so." Cecil plucked soap and clean washrag from the caddy hanging from the showerhead. He pushed both into Seifer's hands. "Though for now, I'll settle for you helping me scrub up, since you've made your complaints known."

"Better plan on explaining what you meant by boundaries," Seifer grumbled.

"Are you a virgin?"

"_No._"

"Then..." Cecil tilted his head, considering. "Do you want me to keep ordering you around, or would you prefer something else?"

"Shit, I don't know." Rubbing the soap and rag together furiously, Seifer then slapped it against Cecil's shoulder, spattering suds everywhere. "Does it have to be so complicated?"

"That is the question of the hour, isn't it."

Seifer scoffed.

As expected, he was not the most gentle. He scraped the rag across Cecil's skin like he meant to sand it off. Instead of asking to Cecil to move, Seifer roughly grabbed him and manhandled him into position. There was a thrill in that, in letting the younger man build his confidence back up by letting him take control.

Cecil ended up with his arms braced against the wall. Seifer's body draped over his back, a heavy, hard line that sheltered him from the spray. He did not miss the harder line of interest nestled between his ass cheeks.

Seifer's voice was a low buzz against his ear, like he thought someone would hear him over the shower. "What would you make me do?"

Cecil tipped his head back; his hair spilled over Seifer's shoulder, their cheeks rubbed together. Turning his head slightly let him nose along Seifer's jaw line, feeling the faintest beginnings of bristle that would be cleared away by morning. Seifer wasn't one for scruff.

He reached back to cup the back of Seifer's head. Despite the vulnerable position he was in, he was the one very much in control.

"Surrender to me."

The sound of Seifer swallowing was almost audible.

"When it's just you and me," Cecil continued. "Let me be the one to take control. I'll give you three magic words, one of which will let you stop any time you like, no hard feelings."

"Yeah? And then what, you gonna get your jollies off humiliating me in the meantime?"

"If you'd like."

"No way."

"Then what _would_ you like, Seifer?" Cecil shifted, pushing back against him. "Don't pretend the prospect isn't appealing."

Sucking in a sharp breath, Seifer slapped his hand against the wall to brace himself. It took him a second to get himself under control enough to focus again. Cecil was no help at all, lazily rolling his hips to see what other noises he could wring out of Seifer.

Not much.

He was throttling himself.

Always the rigid, pinpoint control beneath the facade of swinging wild. Only when he was well and truly riled up, driven to the brink of shame by that awful, wretched soreness that came of _not being good enough_ did Seifer ever really let loose.

Cecil remembered the way he'd clashed with Squall, and again and again, until he was driven to his knees and forced into submission. Doing the same here had no appeal.

Thankfully, it didn't have to come to that.

Seifer pulled away, exerting control to resist the allure of grinding there under the spray of water. "Give me those words."

Careful, so as to not elbow Seifer or slip, Cecil shifted around to get his back against the wall. "Let's say... Blizzard to stop, Thunder to slow down, and Fire to keep going."

Rolling his eyes, Seifer traded soap for shampoo, ducking under the spray to scrub his short locks. As he rinsed, Cecil filched the bottle for his own hair, though he took considerably longer. Long enough that Seifer finished and sank back against the glass door to watch.

"Some magic words," Seifer finally muttered, when Cecil finished rinsing his hair out.

"Simple is best."

"Fine. Do whatever you want, but keep it simple 'cuz I--" Seifer took a breath, like it pained him to admit to being a novice. "--I'm a newbie."

Cecil snapped the water off, then nudged Seifer out of the stall so he could bend to wring his hair out. With only the one towel between them, getting dry was a Task. Seifer solved it by calling a low, weak flame to his hand. He ran his magic-warmed fingers along Cecil's spine, leaving lingering warmth that ate up moisture.

Throughout the oddly intimate gesture, Seifer would not meet his eyes.


	2. riposte

"Would you object to being tied?" Cecil asked.

"Tied how?"

"Wrists, perhaps secured to a bedpost, if we can find one."

"Fat chance." Seifer squinted, then amended, "Of finding a bedpost in this heap, I mean."

"Then that's a yes?"

"Sure, whatever. You couldn't keep me tied if I didn't want it, anyway."

"Exactly." Cecil reached up to pat Seifer on the cheek, his touch lingering to swipe his thumb under one eye. "The point is that you will still be in control... just allowing me to borrow you for a time to use as I see fit."

Seifer tipped his head back and away from the touch, frowning. "You're not gonna do me in here."

"No. My room won't do, either."

If Firion walked in on them, Cecil knew for a fact that he would never live it down. Firion would never say anything but it would lie between them, unspoken and rotten. He'd probably put his armor on like a shell and never come out of it, no matter _how_ much Seifer might needle at him.

"Just me in mine," Seifer pointed out.

Given his volatile nature, not even his so-called posse cared to share the same room. Maybe one day there wouldn't be a choice and someone would have to bunk down with him. For now, though, it did afford them a modicum of privacy--a rare and precious thing to have when there were nearly a hundred of them living in the airship.

"Fine." Cecil collected his clothes and dressed quickly. "Wait here." Before he left, he eyed Seifer up and down consideringly. "And don't dress."

Their shower had taken long enough that there were a few others on the ship. Most would be out on the ground, taking advantage of the chance to sleep under the stars or in tents instead of the small, cramped bunks on the ship. Others found comfort in tight spaces like Cecil did-- or their backs were better off with any mattress at all.

From the looks of it, Barret, Sazh, and a couple others were busily hauling some of the mattresses _out_. They were perhaps some of the wisest among their numbers, Cecil mused.

"Hey, Cecil," Sazh called out, "You joining us outside?"

"No, thank you. I have some... journaling to catch up on."

Nodding, Sazh waved cheerily, then hurried to grab his corner of the mattress before it fell. "Okay, well, if you change your mind--!!"

Then they were gone.

Cecil waited until he was sure no one else was coming before opening the shower closet door. "Put only your coat on, leave it opened and unzipped," he ordered. "And then walk to your room. Slowly."

"Humiliation right away? I knew you were as scummy as the rest of us," Seifer accused, but he did what he was told all the same.

"It's not humiliation if you're not caught."

If Seifer were to be caught, it would be alone-- at least at first. Cecil entered the closet to collect the rest of their clothes. Leaving them behind would only be damning evidence for someone to find.

He caught up with Seifer halfway to the room. Just in time to smoothly put himself in front of the man, blocking line of sight as Firion came out of the Warrior's room.

Time halted.

Cecil drew in a breath, tilting his head one way. He could feel shame scoring a hot line up his back, to match the press of _Seifer's_ shame against him.

Firion's gaze flicked to Seifer, then back to Cecil. If he noticed that Seifer lacked pants or boots, he called no attention to it. On the Cecil's exhale, Firion politely nodded his head before moving on.

Only when they were alone again did Seifer exhale noisily, half-wheezing something that had to be a swear under his breath.

Cecil glanced back, half expecting to find Firion watching them from down the hall. But no, the man really had made his escape. That would be an awkward conversation later.

Then he smirked at the evidence that while Seifer feared the prospect of humiliation, he very much understood the point of nearly being caught. His erection bobbed with every step.

However, the minute they were inside his room, he said, "No more of that."

"Alright," Cecil agreed.

Seifer flopped on his bed, legs spread and hands braced to support his weight as he leaned back. The very picture of cocky indifference, though it was at odds to the way he twisted his heel against the rough rug. "I don't care for other people knowing my business."

Draping the clothes over the storage chest in one corner, the boots on the floor next to that, Cecil nodded. He came over to touch his fingers to the inside of one of Seifer's knees as he knelt on the bed. It was one of the larger ones, and the bunk above it had been removed, giving them room to maneuver.

"Understood." The corner of Cecil's mouth quirked up. "Though that suggests you're already amenable to repeat performances."

"Jury's still out."

Though he tried to say it offhandedly, there was no missing the way Seifer watched Cecil. Sharp and wary, like he expected a fight.

Cecil leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Tenderness did not appeal to Seifer. He grabbed a handful of hair at the base of Cecil's skull, then hesitated. The searching look sought permission even as his grip tightened to the point of pain.

Another chance to let him build up his confidence.

Relaxing into it, Cecil let Seifer pull his head back, baring his throat. "Now what are you going to do?"

Blue eyes narrowed. Seifer lunged and latched onto the side of Cecil's neck with teeth and lips, biting and sucking with zero interest in pleasure and every intention to claim. At the same time, he looped his free arm around Cecil's back to haul him into the space between naked legs.

As he gasped, Cecil got one handful of Seifer's coat and one of his hair. He tugged but made no attempt to separate them. When teeth eased off, he shifted so that his knees ended up framing Seifer's hips.

Hot breath and broad swipes of a tongue soothed away the hurt. Seifer's grip on his hair loosened. His fingers brushed down Cecil's back, then both hands settled against his hips.

Seifer licked his lips. His gaze was on the mark he'd made. "Thought you were gonna be in charge."

"I'm letting you warm up."

A snort. Seifer grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him down to the evidence that some parts of his anatomy were plenty warmed up. "I don't think that's it."

Cecil smiled, rolled his wrist to get free, and set his hand on Seifer's shoulder. He would not be hurried. "What is it, then?"

"It's like you got two personalities," Seifer said, oddly slow and thoughtful. "And you're switching between them faster than the rest of us can keep up."

"...Am I?"

"Yeah. One's a sad idiot I can kick around, and then... whatever this is."

There was something Cecil had forgotten, something to do with the dark that ate at him and the ache he felt whenever he watched others call down the light. He didn't want to think about it right then, not with a warm and willing body right in front of him. Now was not the time for warring, internal or otherwise.

"I'm not doing it on purpose."

"Didn't say you were."

"Since you've never done this, I only meant to give you something familiar." Cecil framed Seifer's face in his hands and leaned up to brush kisses over the scar. "Lie back, then, and I'll take care of you."

Oddly, Seifer let him get away with that moment of tenderness. He slouched under it, watching Cecil not with wary caution but something like awe. Certainly not _affection_.

The position couldn't be comfortable. Seifer's long legs hung off the edge of the bed and his back bowed, curled up against the wall at an awkward angle. They would need to move, but for the time being, Cecil relished being able to sink down to sit between Seifer's legs with his own draped over the top of Seifer's thighs.

With Seifer watching his every move, Cecil grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. As he swept it off, his hair spilled over one shoulder.

Hard to miss the covetous way others looked at his hair. Seifer's attention strayed to the curling of pale locks against skin, white against cream. The twitch of fingers against the backs of his calves told him Seifer itched to grab. That he didn't suggested a willingness to wait for permission.

Cecil plucked the laces free from the front of his shirt, then used it to tie his hair back. "I don't suppose you have contraceptives?"

"Contra-what."

Rolling his eyes, Cecil scraped his nails along the inside of one of Seifer's legs, hard enough to leave red lines. "Condoms, maybe some lube..."

Seifer jumped and hissed, thighs clenching. His fingers scrabbled along Cecil's legs but found no purchase. "Hhey!" He sucked in a breath and it took him a second to remember how to glare properly.

Yet, he didn't say _stop_.

Cecil did it to the other side, just to make it match. Then he slithered off the bed and bent to mouth along the new marks. They stopped _just_ short of Seifer's need, lying so prettily in blond curls, curved up over his stomach and hip.

Keeping his face near enough that Seifer would feel his breath, Cecil reminded: "Condoms, Seifer. Yes, no?"

"Hah-- In, in the trunk."

"Arrange yourself more comfortably."

Cecil rose to go investigate the trunk. It contained whatever worldly things Seifer cared to curate, all of it in imitation of his home world. Clothes, mostly. He coiled a spare belt around his forearm as he rummaged through.

The nature of this purgatory meant that even if Seifer lacked supplies, they could have conjured whatever they needed. The pull of power would draw too much attention, however. The little mog that led their ragtag band would have come running-- or floating --with a team in tow, and then there would be... unfortunate questions.

That the goddess never protested her warriors' use of the world's powers to make sordid items amused Cecil to no end. He'd not soon forget the day Prompto and Noct were caught sharing a joint with Locke and Irvine. Everyone had acted so _shocked_, though all four were young men dealing with a lot of confusion and stress.

He found what he wanted in a black box at the bottom of the trunk. Condoms, dental dams, two bottles of lube. Seifer was either a busy or expectant man. Cecil tilted one of the bottles in the light. Less than a quarter left. Busy, then.

Turning back, Cecil found Seifer reclining on pillows, still in his coat. "You have many partners?"

"No repeats."

"If you want repeats with me, you'll make yourself exclusive, then."

Seifer lifted a shoulder, lazily. "Sure. Less work."

"Work?"

"Getting familiar and all that crap."

"Ah. Yes." Cecil came over to drop his supplies on the bed next to Seifer's side. "Something to be said for already knowing one another's needs."

"Mine's getting laid before I die of old age."

With an amused snort, Cecil bent to slot their mouths together. He didn't let the kiss deepen, however, because it was only a distraction to let him bring Seifer's wrists together.

"Don't move," Cecil instructed.

He threaded the belt through the buckle, then looped the rest of the tail back around to make a figure eight shape. Bringing the tail around again, to the front side of the buckle, and once more to the back, made for a useful pair of makeshift cuffs. Cecil took Seifer's hands and pulled them through one at a time. By pulling the tail, he tightened the cuffs until the leather was flush against skin.

"How does that feel?"

"Seems kinda wimpy." Seifer twisted his wrist to hook a finger under the tail right before the buckle, giving it an experimental tug that loosened the whole thing. "Am I supposed to be able to escape?"

"I'm going to secure it to a pipe so you won't be able to, once I know whether it's tight enough."

"Huh." Seifer held his bound wrists out to Cecil. "Go on then. It's too loose."

Cecil cupped his hand under the cuffs to steady it, then gripped the tail to start pulling it tighter. "Blizzard when it's good."

"...There. Blizzard."

Testing the give by hooking his finger into the cuff, Cecil nodded. "Move your hands for me?"

Seifer did as he was told, rotating the wrists to touch palms together, then back again to wiggle his hands and fingers. "It's fine."

"Say something if it stops being fine."

"This whole thing gonna be you fussing the whole time?"

"You'll thank me later, if things get too overwhelming."

Though Seifer snorted, he said nothing else, slumping back onto the pillows with his chin jutted. His posture said _get on with it_.

Taking the hint, Cecil pulled the cuffs up towards the wall above Seifer's head. He grabbed his discarded shirt to loop it around a sturdy-looking pipe, then tied it around the cuffs, secure enough that Seifer wouldn't be able to pull free. He gave a few experimental tugs just to be certain.

"Before I begin, be a good boy and tell me what the magic words were again?"

"...Fire, Thunder, Blizzard."

Cecil rewarded him with a chaste kiss. "Lovely."

As he pulled away, Seifer leaned up in chase.

Smiling, Cecil planted one hand against his shoulder and curled the other under his chin, thumb under his lip. He swung his leg over Seifer's hips to straddle him.

Then he leaned close as if he were going to kiss again. Seifer moved to meet him eagerly.

At the last second, Cecil shoved.

Down Seifer went, with a faint grunt and an annoyed look. "You--"

Cecil shoved two fingers into Seifer's mouth. Teeth stopped short of biting down.

"--mmph!"

"You hurl crude insults freely," Cecil murmured, hooking his fingers over Seifer's teeth to pull his jaw open. "But is that filthy mouth good for anything else?"

Glowering, Seifer licked at Cecil's fingers. It was a clear challenge, and one that Cecil indulged by way of letting up so that Seifer could suck. Seifer's tongue curled and worked between the digits and over the pads of his fingers.

Lazily, he worked his fingers in and out. When he finally pulled free, a thin line of drool trailed from his fingers to Seifer's lips. Seifer panted, pupils blown wide with want.

"Hmm." Cecil trailed his spit-slick fingers down the side of Seifer's neck, over his collarbone, and down over his chest. There, he circled the nipple. He caught Seifer's gaze right as he pinched and twisted it. "I didn't pen you for a cocksucker."

Seifer bucked under him in a rough and sudden attempt to throw him. "The hell do you take me for!?"

Tightening his thighs, Cecil threw his weight the other way to keep from being dumped on the floor. It was hard to stay in the scene with how genuinely pissed off Seifer looked.

He grabbed onto the chain and twisted it. Then he lowered himself to sit on Seifer's erection. There, he rode out Seifer's thrashing until the lack of air stilled him.

Letting up, he listened to raspy, whooping coughs with a tilted head. He should have sought out a water canteen beforehand.

"Spell?"

"...F. Fire."

Nodding, Cecil rubbed his thumb along the bruising mark of the chain ringing Seifer's neck. "Did the idea of fellatio repulse you?" His thumb stilled against the pulse point. "Or something else?"

"'M not gonna shy from it," Seifer grumbled. "Be stupid... to not return the favor."

"Ah... Then I offended you." Cecil bent to mouth along the marks on Seifer's neck, licking and sucking lightly. "How shall I make it up to you?"

"Blow me."

"If you stay still... and don't make a sound." Withdrawing, Cecil held a finger up and swayed it. "One peep out of you, and I'll stop and leave you wanting."

"...Like, leave entirely?"

"No, but we won't continue until you're soft again."

Seifer swallowed, took a breath that hitched, and swallowed a second time. Then he nodded, already silent.

"Good boy."

Cecil patted his cheek almost condescendingly, and smiled at the narrowing of eyes, the gnashing of teeth. Annoyed or not, Seifer held himself rigidly in check.

And he continued to do so as Cecil mouthed his way down his body.

Cecil took his sweet time exploring. His hands wandered down over pectoral muscles and abs, tracing out feather light whorls and loops. His mouth soon followed, sometimes with gentle kisses and licks, sometimes with bites deep enough to leave stinging red marks that made Seifer buck.

He lingered over a scar that curved near one of Seifer's nipples and down over his ribs. The flesh there seemed tender enough to make Seifer's breath hitch. Bringing his hand up, he dragged his nails along the scarring, drawing new welts.

"Hh--" Seifer choked off a moan, but just barely. He couldn't quite repress his gasps, though.

Meeting Seifer's hungry, needy gaze, Cecil decided he could be lenient. He'd let those sweet little noises slide. For now.

Tenderly, he kissed along the marks he'd made, then puffed his breath out over the wet spots to soothe the hurt.

Continuing downwards, Cecil paid special attention to Seifer's hip bones and the sensitive crease where his thighs met his groin. The marks from earlier lining the insides of his thighs merited attention, too-- Cecil sucked a new mark on the left, tantalizingly close to Seifer's sac.

A long, barely audible whine escaped between Seifer's grit teeth.

Cecil raised his gaze and palmed his cheek, idly tracing his finger along the edges of pubic hair. "Hmm, I _did_ say no noise, didn't I...?"

Seifer didn't take the bait to speak. He thinned his lips out and jerked his chin, hands flexing.

"I'm not going to stop our game here... but this does merit punishment."

Sitting up, Cecil considered the options and the body before him. Seifer lay panting and willing. His cock was so hard that it bobbed in time with his heartbeat, dribbling a thin line of precum onto his belly.

Not an ounce of fear in Seifer's eyes, only anticipation.

That anticipation didn't dwindle when Cecil raised his hand and flexed the fingers, manifesting shadows. The dark energy coalesced around his arm from the elbow down to form a clawed gauntlet. Though not completely solid, it had real weight to it and exuded a chill greater than metal.

He introduced Seifer to that by way of laying it over the scratches on his left thigh. Just that and nothing more-- resting it there for a moment to let him get used to the void that sucked the warmth from their bodies greedily, the dragging weight of it pulling them under. The claws prickling against his skin.

Then he gripped Seifer's knee with his other hand, pressing down to keep him from moving.

He lifted the gauntlet, slow, slow, slow.

Then he brought it down. The resounding smack of flesh almost covered the bitten off yelp out of Seifer's mouth. Almost, but not enough to spare him from another smack. And another, for the gasp that followed. A fourth one wasn't needed; Seifer managed to get himself under control except for his labored breathing.

"Are you going to be quiet?" Cecil asked.

Seifer nodded vigorously.

Cecil stroked the backs of his shadowy gauntlet against the hurt. "Good."

It was tempting to release the shadows and dispel the gauntlet. What stopped him was the way Seifer's leg bounced under the slow trail of claws moving towards his groin. Cecil tipped his head, considering, then teased his claws up over a hip bone and across abs. Muscles spasmed at the teasing.

"Do you want me to keep touching you like this?"

A nod.

"Your cock?"

Seifer drew his brows up, mouth twisted, glancing between the gauntlet and Cecil's face. He dragged his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

"Go ahead and answer."

"I'm not a coward, but--" Seifer's voice was a thick burr low in his throat. "--don't much like the idea of sticking my dick in something without guarantees it won't come out looking like mincemeat."

Startled to laughter, Cecil shook his head. "No, that's understandable."

And then Seifer surprised him again by adding, "That shadowy stuff's what keeps messing you up when you overdo it."

"...Yes."

"So don't."

Releasing the energy that bound the shadows to him, Cecil braced his hands on Seifer's knees and leaned in to kiss him. After all the teasing, Seifer didn't seem to know what to do with his mouth except open in sloppy surrender. Cecil sucked on his lip before pulling away.

He pressed his finger to Seifer's lips. "Shush now." Cecil walked his fingers down Seifer's front, all the way down to the curly pubic hair. "Since you've been so good, I won't punish you anymore... but I won't finish if you make too much noise."

With a quiet grunt, Seifer settled back into the pillows.

Cecil slid back down between his legs. At long last, he curled his fingers loosely around the cock he'd neglected the whole time. Despite the lack of attention, it pulsed in his hand. The hefty girth of it thrilled him; his own dick gave a more than interested twitch at the prospect of trying to take it.

But this wasn't about him.

He drew the head towards his mouth and bent to slide his lips around the crown. Using the flat of his tongue, he laved the tip, lapping up precum.

"Ah--" Seifer's thighs clenched against his shoulders. He dropped his head back, swallowing thickly to choke back further noises.

Teasing the underside and along the frenulum, Cecil waited until Seifer looked at him again. Then, holding that dazed, blue-eyed gaze, Cecil dipped down to take more into his mouth. Slow but not so slow as to tease, he bobbed, not really sucking yet.

He had other plans, not fully realized until he slid his hand down to the base to squeeze; Seifer jerked his arms and the belt buckle rattled against the pipes.

When they started, Cecil had a very different picture of how things would go. After everything, Seifer looked pretty far gone. In the best kind of way, Cecil thought, well pleased with the pretty picture the younger man made with so many lovely marks adorning his skin. All his taut control fraying second by second as Cecil coaxed him towards the edge. Delicious.

Cecil pulled off and stroked soothingly along Seifer's thighs at his affronted little huff. "Patience."

He snagged one of the condoms, tore it open, then slipped it over two fingers. Then he poured lube over the rubber, just enough to coat it. With his preparations complete, he nudged Seifer's legs apart.

Dipping his newly coated fingers behind Seifer's sac, Cecil traced along the perineum to the anus. As he did so, his attentions returned to Seifer's cock. He mouthed along the underside, lightly petting the top.

"Mmh... hh..."

At the first prod of fingers, Seifer clenched down. He drew is legs up, penning Cecil in.

"Relax," Cecil murmured. "Or have you never done this?"

As though it were a challenge, Seifer tossed his head. "S'not that." His legs fell open again, and he made a point of lifting his rear up to resituate so that Cecil had better access.

Rather than ask, Cecil resumed. They could talk later.

Working his fingers in, Cecil didn't particularly seek out any one spot. There wasn't any magic button that would make any man scream and thrash in the throes of ecstasy-- least of all a stubborn one like Seifer. Nor did he strain his fingers trying to do anything fancy. In and out, a slow drag of friction, with the occasional curl of fingers when they were in deep enough.

Once he'd set a good rhythm, he wrapped his other hand around the base of Seifer's cock, idly squeezing and rubbing his thumb up and down. The rest, he took into his mouth to suck and lick, occasionally bobbing for more friction, always with an excess of spit.

No longer able to keep entirely still, Seifer strained against his bonds. Nor could he keep breathy little moans from escaping. "Shi--! Hhn. Hhah, mm."

Cecil felt Seifer clench around fingers right before he came. His whole body went rigid as he shuddered into it. There was no wild howling, just a sudden, abrupt lack of sound-- even his breathing cut off for a few seconds.

Then, like his strings were cut, he sank bonelessly to the mattress.

The taste of Seifer's semen was decidedly saltier and funkier than Cecil cared for. Careful not to spit it out everywhere, he pulled away and fumbled for something to spit it into. One of their dirty shirts would have to do. He tucked the used condom into the pocket to be dealt with later, too.

His own arousal demanded attention but Cecil sat on the edge of the bed with his legs crossed, ignoring it. Smoothing his hand through Seifer's sweaty hair, he waited out the afterglow.

Seifer watched from beneath drooping eyelids, lashes fanned out across his cheeks. It took him a minute and several false starts to finally get out, "You finish?"

"No, but that's fine."

Blue eyes narrowed.

He should have known it would not be _fine_ in Seifer's book. Foolishly, Cecil relaxed into the silence that followed. The room smelled like sweat and sex, his mouth tasted terrible, but the sounds of Seifer's breathing slowing brought his own uneven heartrate back down.

Seifer lunged all at once.

His whole body strained against the bindings securing him to the wall. For a second, it looked like his arms might pop out. Yet, his strength was so great that the pipe gave first-- the metal cracked apart and the whole thing snapped loose in a spray of warm steam.

Wide eyed and stunned by the abrupt reminder of Seifer's reckless, brute force way of dealing with things, Cecil reacted too slow to avoid being grabbed by still cuffed hands. He couldn't deny the thrill of being yanked back into the bed and manhandled until he was pinned beneath Seifer's bulk. His coat draped over the both of them, oppressive and hot.

"I don't like unfinished business," Seifer all but snarled.

Then he mashed their mouths together and kissed like he fought-- all ferocious demand to be the only thing anyone noticed. Cecil surrendered to it, letting him lead. The kisses gentled out after that, each slower and deeper than the last.

As they kissed, Seifer brought his bound wrists up above Cecil's head to brace his weight on his elbows. He broke away with one last nip to Cecil's lower lip.

"Ah," Cecil managed, as a leg slotted between his. "...You... you're incredible."

"Damn right."

"How do you intend to... finish this, then?"

"Already done taking charge?"

Cecil reached up to yank at the knotted shirt, then the belt to free Seifer. "Just keep kissing me and use your hand, then."

"Sure."

Seifer wasted no time in divesting Cecil of his pants. They ended up tangled around his knees, since Seifer had no interest in moving.

Moving would mean they'd have to stop kissing. And he'd have to stop touching Cecil's hair, almost managing to pet but mostly tugging at it in a way that went right to Cecil's dick.

His hands were huge and calloused and rough and Cecil couldn't help but _moan_ when Seifer wrapped one around his dick and began to jerk him off too fast, too rough, too demanding--

"_Gods_!" He panted into Seifer's mouth. "Mm. More--!"

Seifer bit his lips, then along his jaw line, and down his neck. He sucked hard just under the jaw, then bit down, worrying at the skin.

Pinned there as he was, Cecil could do nothing but take it. He didn't even have the leverage to rock up into Seifer's hand.

"C'mon, give it to me."

"AH! Nn, I'm--!"

Another bite to the other side of Cecil's neck, closer to his collar bone was his undoing. Pain and pleasure crashed to a head, leaving him dizzy and gasping. The pressure in his gut finally gushed over, out over Seifer's fingers.

In the aftermath, his world sort of settled back down a little fuzzy at the edges. The cold, brittle pieces inside him seemed distant, replaced with an uncomfortable, sticky warmth.

Seifer pushed himself up onto one elbow. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked up the mess. All the while, he held Cecil's gaze, bold as he pleased.

It sent a hot little thrill down his spine but he was too far gone to do anything serious about it. Cecil reached up to pull him down for a sloppy kiss. As it turned out, his spunk didn't taste any better.

Laughing at the face Cecil made, Seifer rolled off and flopped on his belly. "Chicken wuss."

Cecil smacked the back of his hand against Seifer's shoulder. "Don't call me that when we don't have pants on."

"Whatever." Seifer yawned. "You gonna limp off to some dank corner again?"

"You don't seem like the type for cuddling."

"If you're still here in the morning, you better be... riding my dick loud enough for the neighbors to hear." Seifer's words dwindled as he dragged a pillow over his head and started to doze.

The reasons why staying and making noise would be bad seemed distant. It took Cecil several moments to recall.

He nudged Seifer. "Your neighbors are Raijin and Fujin."

"...And...?"

"I forget who else," Cecil admitted. "You really want them to hear us?"

"S' that ninja. The one with the dog." Seifer lifted the corner of the pillow to squint from the shadowy depths. His face was beginning to scrunch up in familiar annoyance. "He's never around."

Acting on instinct, Cecil pushed the pillow aside and leaned in to kiss him, and his scar, and the furrow in his brow. The tension eased, irritation soothed somewhat.

"I don't give a shit." Seifer told him, all grumbly and low, "It's not anyone else's business. Just cut the flip flopping and do what you want."

"...I think I already have."

That earned him a pillow to the face.

But he did stay-- because he wanted to.


End file.
